


A Fruitful Experience

by Persiflage



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alien Flora & Fauna, Coulson's Huge Crush on Daisy, Daisy's huge crush on Coulson, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, IN SPAAAAACE, POV Phil Coulson, Prompt Fic, Sexual Content, Spaceships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 04:51:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12381273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: Coulson discovers just what Daisy thinks of him.





	A Fruitful Experience

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tqpannie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tqpannie/gifts).



> Written for @tqpannie who requested _Daisy eats alien fruit that causes her brain to mouth filter to fail._ The consequences are, of course, inevitable!
> 
> And no, I am NOT gonna apologise for the puntastic title!

“Are you sure you don’t want some of these?” Daisy asks, gesturing at the bowl of purple berries on the food-laden table before them.

Coulson smiles. “Quite sure, thanks.” He helps himself to a peach-like fruit and she shakes her head. 

“They taste better than they smell,” she offers, and he laughs softly.

“So I assumed from the way you’re attacking that bowl.”

She looks guilty and he immediately curses himself silently. Before she can open her mouth to apologise, he wraps his fingers over her wrist. “Don’t apologise for enjoying them,” he says earnestly. “You deserve to enjoy nice things, now more than ever.”

When he thinks of everything she’s been through, not just in the last few months while she was rescuing him and the rest of the team, but during the last few years since he dragged her into SHIELD’s orbit, he doesn’t know whether to cry or rage.

“Phil.” There’s a worried note in her voice and he wonders what his face is doing. “Don’t be sad face, Phil,” she says. “I don’t like it when you’re sad.”

He does his best to smile at her, and she reaches over, clasping the wrist of his right hand, which he only now realises is still wrapped around her left wrist.

“Funny way to hold hands,” she jokes, “but I like it.”

He’s a little surprised to hear her say that, but he’s pleased too. Daisy’s hands fascinate him, and always have: they’re how she channels her Quake powers, of course, which he supposes ought to make them scary, but she’s used her powers to save his ass and others’ lives too often for him to be frightened of them (and he’s never feared her powers anyway). He’s also fascinated by her hacking skills and watching her hands fly across a keyboard as she beats someone’s computer system never gets old.

“I like it too,” he tells her, feeling a bit shy about making the admission, but wanting to be honest with her since she’s being honest with him.

“Yeah?” She sounds shy but hopeful, he thinks, and he shifts on the couch so he can bump his shoulder against hers, simultaneously squeezing her wrist for added emphasis.

“Yeah.”

“Good.” She looks at his left hand, at the recently repaired prosthetic, and he raises an eyebrow, but she nods, so he wraps that hand over her right wrist. She gives him a satisfied smile, and he thinks how funny it is that they can have a conversation like that, without actually saying a single word. 

“I like your hands,” she tells him, and that feels like an even more surprising admission than that she likes holding his hand. “And your arms.”

“Really?” he asks, a little drily, and she chuckles.

“Yeah, Phil, really.” She tilts her head. “You’re remembering when I called Thor’s arms dreamy, aren’t you?” 

“I am,” he agrees, because how could he forget. He can now admit to himself that he’d been a bit jealous at the time. 

“I’ve decided I like your arms more than Thor’s.” She says it very solemnly, and he feels as if he might blush because of the way she’s gazing at him so intently.

“Thank you, Daisy.”

“I really like it when you hug me.” Her tone is a little wistful, he thinks, and he can’t resist an invitation like that so he draws his hands away from her wrists and leans in, wrapping his arms around her.

“I like hugging you, too,” he says, wondering what’s brought on this confession session.

“Yeah?”

He pulls back a bit, taking in her doubtful expression. “Always,” he says softly, and when she looks like she might cry, he draws her closer, hugging her more tightly.

They sit simply holding each other for some time, but eventually the computer chimes, indicating it needs her attention. He doesn’t think he’s imagining that she’s as reluctant as he is to let go of him, but she does pull away, then reaches out and snags the tablet.

“Everything okay?” he asks as she taps busily at the screen for a couple of minutes.

“It is now,” she says, her tone reassuring. “I set up the computer to notify me if we were going to cross paths with a Kree ship – that was an early warning notification, but I’ve just altered our course so we won’t come near them.”

He has to swallow hard before he can speak. “Good.”

“Yeah.” She sets the tablet aside, then grabs the bowl of purple berries from the table and eats a few more, and he tries not to mind that she wants to eat more than she wants to hug: it’s only fair, given how much she used her powers rescuing him earlier today. She’d led him aboard her ship, put it on autopilot, then collapsed in her quarters for several hours of sleep. He’d taken a shower in his own quarters and swapped his prison clothing for jeans, a polo shirt and a sweater, then he’d lain down for a bit too: he never seemed to get enough sleep in the prison, and it’s a luxury to just sleep for as long as he needs. 

“Your arms are sexy,” she tells him, and he raises his eyebrows at her.

“My arms?” he asks doubtfully.

“Mmhmm.” She stares at him, then licks her lips – he thinks unselfconsciously – then gives him an assessing look. “Actually, I don’t think there’s a bit of you that isn’t sexy. You’re a painfully sexy man, Phil.”

“Painfully?” he repeats, confused but charmed by the direction this conversation’s taken.

“God, yeah. It pains me that you’re so sexy and we’ve never even made out.”

He stares at her, a bit disbelievingly, then he notices something: her eyes look slightly glazed, and there’s a few beads of sweat along her hairline, even though the temperature in the ship is slightly on the cool side.

“Daisy?”

“Yeah, Phil?”

“I think those purple berries are influencing you, and maybe you should stop eating them.”

“These?” She looks down at the bowl in her hand, then back up at him, frowning. “Why?”

“They seem to be affecting your brain-to-mouth filter,” he says, and it sort of pains him to ask her to stop, because learning that Daisy finds him sexy is definitely an ego boost, but at the same time, he can’t take advantage of her like that. It’s unfair.

She looks stricken as soon as she realises what he’s saying, and hastily puts the bowl down, then puts a hand to her mouth, her eyes filling with tears. “Oh god, Phil,” she chokes out from behind her fingers. “I’m so sorry.”

He leans in to hold her upper arms, gazing intently at her in an effort to convey his sincerity. “You have nothing to apologise for, Daisy. Do you hear me? Nothing.”

“But – “

He leans in further, his mouth hovering over hers, and after a moment he hears her sigh, then her lips meet his, and they kiss. There’s nothing tentative about it – in fact, if he was going to describe it, he’d probably call it ‘searing’ because of its heat and intensity.

The kissing goes on for some time, and they end up lying full length along the couch, Daisy’s body prone atop his. He can feel his desire building until his body seems to be fizzing with arousal, which has never happened before, and he’s grateful when she starts rocking her body over his.

“Phil?”

“Yeah?”

“Kissing’s not enough, is it?”

“I certainly wouldn’t say no to more than kissing,” he tells her, watching her dark eyes as they watch him.

“Good.” She nips at his bottom lip, and the next moment her hand is snaking inside his jeans to slide down the length of his cock until her fingers curl around his balls.

“Fuck,” he mutters.

She smirks at him, then lifts herself up sufficiently far enough to get his jeans down off his hips, exposing his rampant erection to the cool air. He swears breathlessly as his cock seems to harden further, then again as she lowers her body down over him, and he slides easily into her already wet heat.

“Daisy.”

“Phil.” She begins to move, and he reaches up to try to unfasten her dress. She seems to realise what he’s about because she stops moving just long enough to tug the dress up and off, tossing it onto the floor and baring her body to his appreciative gaze.

“You’re gorgeous,” he tells her, and clasps her breasts when she guides his hands to them.

“And you’re painfully sexy,” she reminds him, making him chuckle.

She comes twice before he does, and he’s surprised it’s not over a lot sooner since it’s been more than a year since he last had sex. He blanks out the thought of Ros, but can’t help wondering if Daisy’s recalling Lincoln. He’s fairly sure Lincoln was no better for Daisy than Ros was for him, and he can’t help wondering, now, if they both chose someone else in lieu of each other: he’s certainly desired Daisy at some level since day one. He’d always told himself that this could never happen, which now seems quite absurd.

“That was good,” she tells him as they snuggle together on the couch afterwards.

“Out of this world,” he deadpans, and she laughs joyously.

“God, Phil, you’re so corny.”

“But you like me being corny,” he says confidently.

“Luckily for you, I do.”

She lifts her head from his shoulder and gazes at him a moment, then lowers her mouth to kiss him, rather more languidly than the first time they kissed.

“I don’t know what we’re going back to,” she says once she releases his mouth, “but I don’t want to go back to pretending I don’t want this with you.”

“Me too,” he says quickly. “I think we’re better together.”

She grins. “Pieces to a puzzle,” she says.

“Lady Sif once told me there are tides in the universe we cannot swim against.”

Daisy’s eyebrows go up, and he thinks she looks awed. “Soulmates?”

“I don’t know if that’s exactly what she meant,” he tells her, “but yeah, I do think we’re soulmates.”

“Phil.” She whispers his name, looking awed still, but he sees the sheen of tears in her eyes, and he’s fairly certain he understands what’s going through her head right now: the concept of belonging is a powerful one, given Daisy’s background – the idea of being someone’s soulmate must be nearly overwhelming.

“I love you,” she says, still whispering.

“And I love you,” he says firmly, tightening his arms around her for emphasis.

She gives him a satisfied sort of smile, then yawns, burying her face in his chest.

“I could use a nap,” he tells her. 

“Yeah.”

“But maybe we could nap somewhere more comfortable?” he suggests. “The beds – “

She laughs. “Are quite comfortable, yeah.” She pulls herself up off his body, and they move into her quarters, holding hands. Coulson no longer minds the prospect of the long journey back to Earth – they’ll have time to really explore this new aspect of their relationship. 

He wishes he could thank the vendor who sold them those purple berries.


End file.
